The Power of the Dance
by whitereflections12
Summary: AmbroseCain Basically, finding love through dance. Or, being able to accept the love that was already there. Unique, but with many story elements lovingly taken from Dirty Dancing which I also don't own and blended. R&R and enjoy!
1. The Ball

In the past couple of days I've discovered Dirty Dancing(which I had never seen…at 20)and fell in love with it as my new obsession…but then I suddenly remembered how much Glitch loves dancing. My initial inspiration was just for a ficlet using "Nobody puts baby in a corner" but then I had an idea to do a full fic (and the line will make an appearance….somewhere).

I could have taken it totally AU but that wasn't the idea I had(though don't rule it out….that may be exactly what I do in the future, so here's a heads up for anyone interested)but there will most definitely be elements of that in this. I don't think that requires any suspension of belief, unless you find it impossible that Cain would be interested in dancing(which I don't find impossible, and I think most people wouldn't either). Plus there's some manipulation of circumstances because…well, there has to be the right kind of dancing, not just ballroom in order for the story to work. ;) Ok that said….here goes. Hope some of you enjoy this crazy idea of mine.(and sorry for the author's note from hell. lol) :)

I don't own Tin Man. Though I'd take him. Naked. Right here. ;)

Ok, this isn't uploading right. There should be dividers between sections. :smoldering:

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"Honestly, I don't know what the big deal is, Cain. It's just a ball." Ambrose twirled easily around Cain, straightening his badly adjusted coat in the back as he turned. It was uneven again within seconds, due to Cain's never-ending fidgeting. "Cain…"

"I can't help it, alright? I feel ridiculous in all this. I mean, why the hell do I have to do this anyway I'm not a member of the family and I'm certainly not here to have fun and-"

"You-" Ambrose drifted across the room to check on his own reflection in another mirror. "are the head of royal security. You have to be here."

"Sure. In the background. Not-"

"Is he still complaining?" Ambrose could see DG's annoyed face behind him in the mirror, and he nodded. "Well stop it Cain and come on. You're going to have fun tonight, you work too hard."

Cain scowled. Clearly, this was far from his idea of fun. "This is insane. And I look-"

"You look…" He paused a moment, waiting for the right words. It wasn't that he didn't have them, it was that he didn't want to say them. Cain would think he was just glitching, but that hardly ever happened anymore these days. No, he knew what he wanted to say. _You look beautiful. You look ravishing. You look better than you ever have. I want…_ No, he was sticking to how Cain looked. And while all of those statements were true, he couldn't say any of them. "You look perfectly fine, Cain, like every man does dressed up. Now come on. We'll be late and you'll upset DG. Again."

TMTMTMTM

The ball had been DG's idea. Well, it was more of a result of an idea, the end of a thought process. It had started when she was bored during her lessons with Tutor(and when didn't that happen?)and had reminisced about her favorite music. The more she thought about it the more she missed it and in true DG fashion, she began to bug Cain about it. When he had heard enough, he sent some young Tin Men to the other side to bring her back some of her damn precious cd's. It had been easy enough for work for brilliant-again Ambrose to build a contraption to play them and she had been thrilled and satisfied. For awhile. Next came the concept of a dance. The queen corrected her, said they could hold a ball. In the end, there was compromise. A ball early in the evening, followed by whatever the hell DG wanted to do afterward(though the Queen hadn't put it just like that, the 

strangeness of it to her had been made clear), but it could only be private, among the family and closest friends. Apparanty, the Queen knew beyond any doubt DG would do something inappropriate. Music wasn't all that different between the two realms after all, and the Queen knew very well that anything other than ballroom dancing was inappropriate public behavior for a royal.

But, knowing better than to deny DG outright and have her do something stupid, like be seen by a reporter in a club somewhere, she had allowed this little party. Wisely, the Queen and Ahamo had left early. Cain, on the other hand, was firmly stuck. He leaned against a side wall, eyes on the dance floor, class in hand. He was tired and annoyed but it was his job to be the watchful eyes and he couldn't leave. Now that he didn't really have to look the part of a gentleman anymore he had discarded the coat on a chair somewhere and his shirt hung untucked and a little disheveled. He at least felt more like himself. He took a sip of his cocktail, shaking his head. And DG had said this would be fun. He hadn't danced with anyone all night, and short of talking to Gl- _Ambrose_ for about five minutes and Raw for about 10 he had been alone, hovering somewhere behind the Queen until she left and now taking up residence in the shadows. Not that he had wanted to dance with anyone. He could still remember so clearly the way it felt to dance with Adora, the way they had danced at their wedding. He could remember the way she had smiled up at him, innocent and dazzled but a little wild, everything about her in that look, in the way her body fit against his. She had been everything, and though he was slowly accepting the truth that she would never be back gliding across the floor with any other woman he knew he would have felt awkward and wrong. It just wasn't the time.

He took his eyes off DG (the center of about five laughing women, Azkadellia at her right side)to survey the rest of the room. Ambrose was talking to Raw. He was smiling, animated…in some ways he was still much the same. Maybe that was why, a full annual after the surgery, Cain still called him Glitch in his head. He was brilliant, smooth, connected, but he had the same spirit and he would always be Glitch to Cain because part of him _was_ Glitch. Not that he didn't appreciate Ambrose as a whole person he was just…different. And complicated.

The song changed then, something heavier, even faster than the song before. Ambrose drifted away from Raw, and he beckoned to him to join him on the floor, though Raw shook his head. Cain smiled. Good for Raw, at least he knew this was foolishness. DG and her friends were dancing, moving well to the beat. Especially DG. She must have enjoyed this, back on the other side. And Ambrose he-

Cain swallowed hard, fighting the way his mouth suddenly went dry. Ambrose was dancing. It shouldn't have been surprising, how many times had he heard him say he loved it? More than he could count, and certainly enough that he had begun to tone it out but by dance he had somehow thought he'd meant ballroom dancing not….not what he was doing right now.

He seemed one with the music, body twisting and turning, hips fluid. Everyone could see his stealing the show, and though Cain saw hands clapping and waving he could hear nothing. His trancelike state continued until he saw DG step forward, Glitch beckoning her forward and into waiting arms to join him in the dance. His senses came rushing back abruptly and he could feel both how tight his pants were and how tight he held the glass in his hand.

DG's friends were still cheering, Dellia was laughing. They were dancing, oblivious. Nothing wrong with it, really. Just a dance. It wasn't as if it was really improper, it just looked that way. Of course the queen would certainly have said it was but it wasn't like they were together or anything and….

Damn. They moved like one. So. This was what Glitch had meant by dancing. Hadn't he offered to teach him? No. That had been the hand to hand. Of course.

Cain wiped thin broken glass away from the bloody lines on his hand, tearing his eyes away from the floor. He had seen enough, and besides he wasn't really needed here anyway. There were a couple of young Tin Men here, they'd come get him if things got rough. Everything was under control.

TMTMTMTM

The song ended and Ambrose disengaged from DG after a last hug, both of them breathless and grinning broadly. "Well, that was fun wasn't it?"

"Fun? Ambrose, I haven't had that much fun in ages! I take back what I said about you guys not knowing how to party. Where'd you learn that?"

It wouldn't sound quite right to tell her where, so he shrugged instead. "Here and there. But it is good for a good time, and it's great exercise. Good for your health in more than one way, too, exercise releases chemicals directly related to feelings of happiness."

DG rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Trust you to bring up science. You and Cain are a perfect, between the two of you you can successfully twist anything in two directions." She twisted her head around. "Where is he anyway, I didn't see him dancing with anyone at the ball? I just knew he'd be all over me, making sure no friend of mine was really an assassin in disguise."

Ambrose's head shot up, scanning the back wall. He knew he had seen Cain there just before the dance…. Empty. He shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sure he's around. You know how he is, DG, he isn't one for the…social functions." Though he fought against it he knew his voice belied the underlying sadness there. One look in her eyes told him DG heard it too, and before she could question him he smiled broadly, kissing her hand. "Well, milady, you make a fantastic dance partner. Now, I'll leave you to your guests." Before she could even protest that, he was gone.

It wasn't until he was back in his room that he really gave himself reign to think about it. It was Cain he had looked at before he stepped out on the floor. Cain, dressed in that black silk shirt that only made his blue eyes stand out unbearably. Cain, the man whose life he had held onto with everything he had once in the back of a beat up van. Cain, the one he thought of more often than he ever had anyone, woman or man. Except that it was all folly, and Cain was the one person in the world that he could for sure never have. Ironic. It was Cain he had thought of while he was dancing, that larger, more muscular body he had held against his own, those blue eyes he had longed to at least catch with his moves. But Cain hadn't been there, maybe hadn't even seen at all. And besides that, he was too in love with the past for a new relationship and too macho to ever consider Ambrose even if he were.

Ambrose sighed, face buried in his pillow. He knew where this line of reasoning led every time. He wanted Cain. He could never have Cain. He needed to move on. But he wanted him, maybe was even in love with him. And round and round it went.

It was going to be a long night. Pushing up out of bed, he slipped his shoes back on and headed to his laboratory.

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So…the beginning! Love the idea? Hate it? let me know. :)


	2. First Encounters

Ok…next chapter! No long author's note, other than to say I finally got to watch my inspiration(Dirty Dancing)all the way through, and ended up watching it twice. I got lots of good ideas and things I'm gonna do with this so…I'm excited now.

Once again, don't own Tin Man, or Dirty Dancing.

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4 AM.

It would be another hour before the solution he was preparing to test as fuel in his latest creation was ready, giving him some time to think. As Glitch, he had come to hate empty time like that because trying to think only brought on more confusion. Now, he could treasure the silence again. His eyes traced a crack in the ceiling. He wondered if he had caused it, before. His memory was still a little sketchy at times. A side of effect of the surgery, they said. Some things would take a long time to remember, others he would never remember at all. He remembered dance. He had loved it so much before, and he hadn't really realized how much he missed dancing until he had done it again, until he felt the rhythm in his veins. It was good, and now he would need it. It was an addiction of sorts, and in that lay the problem. There weren't many places on the surface with that kind of dancing. But underneath…

He could still remember the club he had learned at. Not the name, of course, but he remembered the hanging smoke and the dazzling lights and the hundred moving bodies. He could remember the man who had found him, spoke several words about the "right body type" and pulled him onto the floor to teach him the moves. He remembered taking to it quickly, naturally. He remembered not so much individual performances but the grand scheme of things, paired with other dancers to perform before crowds and earn petty change for their entertainment. The memories weren't exactly good, due to the circumstances, but at the time he hadn't had the sense enough or choice enough to care. He had enjoyed the dancing. It wasn't until he regained his brain that he had remembered he had been a dancer before as well. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't remember where he had learned but he could remember nights secretly spent in dark clubs that he was sure couldn't have been above ground.

If he wanted to dance again, that would be where he would have to go. It shouldn't be too hard, really. He'd just have to go late and night and be sure he wasn't seen. Skipping sleep and occasionally meals wasn't abnormal for him. He'd just have to be extra careful to keep the door to his lab locked in case anyone awake did happen to get curious about his whereabouts. Not likely, except that Cain…

He shouldn't have thought about Cain. Frustrated, he checked the clock. 4:15. 45 minutes left.

Would Cain really follow him anyway? Did he care enough about his whereabouts to follow him? Probably not. They were friends, of course, and as head of security it was his job but he should have no reason to seek him out specifically. Of course not.

That settled, he smiled. Tomorrow night, then. He was looking forward to it.

TMTMTMTM

"Come here often?"

He was questioned as soon as he stepped off the dance floor by a woman with an intricate blue tattoo from her neck down to her chest. She moved into him, pressed against his side, eyes attentive. He shook his head, a little flustered. He hadn't expected this kind of attention, though perhaps he should have. "No."

"That's a shame, pretty boy."

He licked his lips, smiling a little, though he was blushing more. At least it was dark. "Yes, well-"

"You up for another dance?"

She was full up against him, all over him, hands trailing down his back. Any intentions he had had of denying her faded when he realized he had no reason to. Nothing he did here mattered. Ambrose might not have done it, and Glitch wouldn't question. The mix he was now could decide to do it anyway. It was another world, another place and besides, it wasn't as if… "Alright."

TMTMTMTM

He woke up at 4. She was fast asleep, tangled in stained sheets, the flickering light from the ally shining through to give her skin an unnatural light. He wondered, briefly, how old she was. What had brought her here. What her crime was.

He thought of a time when he wouldn't have been able to remember what he was doing here, and realized that maybe then he had been lucky. It was easy to do whatever the hell you wanted when you didn't have to actually face the consequences. Own up to decisions, accept emptiness.

He wondered what Cain would have said, and decided that he either wouldn't have approved or wouldn't have had anything to say. Soundlessly, he slipped out the door.

TMTMTMTM

The bullet ripped through the target a good foot lower than he had intended and Cain swore under his breath. A hand fell to his shoulder and he pulled away from it as if it burned him, eyes calming fractionally when he saw Jeb. "Hey."

"What's wrong, dad?"

He turned back to the target. "Nothing." Nothing he needed to be meddling in. The next shot went too high.

"Dad…"

Cain sighed, let his arm fall down to his side. "Look, it's nothing, alright? I'm fine, Jeb. Don't worry."

One look at Jeb told him he was anything but convinced. "You've been different, these past few weeks. I know something's on your mind. I just wish you'd tell me what it is."

"It's…it's just stress. Everything's fine." Holstering the gun he headed off before Jeb could question him anymore. He hated lying to his son but the lie was kinder than the truth, in this case. Something told him Jeb wouldn't have taken kindly to what was actually going on.

Over the past three weeks he had spent every other night following Glitch. Ambrose. He followed him to the clubs, watched him dance. Watched him leave with men and women that clung to him like they had been glued to his side. He didn't know why he watched, but he knew he couldn't turn away. The past three nights, Glitch had left with the same man. Young, dark haired, blue eyed. Magnificent dancer. Maybe the two of them were together now. Maybe when he accepted that, he could stop caring.

He laughed at the thought, low and harsh. He wasn't sure that could ever happen. Only the night before he had dreamed of the past, of the aftermath of the operation. An annual past it was still clear as crystal in his mine.

"_Mr.Cain?" _

_He had waited long hours to hear that sound, and Cain fairly leapt from his place on the hallway floor. "Is he alright? How did it go? Is he-"_

"_Yes, yes, he's fine. The operation was a success." The doctor was smiling in that slightly condescending doctor way. He had never liked that. _

_He couldn't decide whether to be apprehensive or overjoyed. "That's…that's great."_

"_Yes, it is. However I must tell you…though the operation was a success by its very nature it was experimental and so there were…unavoidable complications."_

_Cain felt sick, but he nodded anyway. "Such as…."_

"_He will have memory loss. How much, we're uncertain but he should be able to remember much of his life. Even more, with time. All the same, we're fairly certain his short term memory will be the most effected….he may not remember much, if anything about the past few weeks. And my colleagues and I are undecided as to whether or not those memories will return."_

He had said something, then, about that being fine as long as Glitch was ok. He had even smiled. He had asked, calmly, when he could see him. In his dream, he always woke up when Ambrose couldn't remember why he called him sweetheart. Lucky for Cain, he had been drugged and had forgotten that moment too. But Cain had remembered, and rather than try to force on him what he couldn't remember and might not have even wanted, now, Cain decided to back away and let the past be buried.

Unfortunately, there was no convenient surgery to wipe that month after the initial restoration of the O.Z. from his mind. He could still remember waking up beside Glitch, sparking his synapse to remember with a simple whisper of "Good morning, sweetheart." against his lips. He could still remember, and even though he had let Glitch go, had even told himself it didn't matter, the truth was that he still hadn't really let it go. Adora he could at least remember fondly. They had been separated by circumstance, not by choice. Glitch…

No. He had opened up to Glitch, and that was where it had to end. If he was going to survive, if he was going to truly move on, he'd have to let it go completely. See Glitch as being just as gone as Adora was. That was hard, though, when he could still so much of him in Ambrose. Still. He needed to snap out of it. He needed to stop watching him dance, jealousy running thicker than blood in his veins.

He wasn't even sure where to begin.

TMTMTMTM

His name was Tylar, and he was a good partner. That was how it had started, at least. After sleeping with him the first time he remembered how vividly his blue eyes sparkled in the light. It reminded him of Cain, since he was such a good dancer…what the hell. It wasn't like it was anything important, anything real. It was just dancing, and it was just sex. He could never pretend it was anything more, except at the moments when Ambrose pretended the man above him was Cain. It was easier, in the dark but it still took a hell of a lot of imagination. Tylar was thinner, lean and strong but not as muscular. Still. If he tried hard enough, just caught a flash of those eyes…

When he was able to imagine it strongest, he usually came then, a soft cry on his lips that was meant for other ears. He always pulled away from Tylar before he fell asleep, and if he slept at all, it was never more than an hour. Then he was back to the palace, back to his duties as a proper inventor 

and advisor. Back to the Ambrose part of his conscious chastising him for being so delinquent, so reckless. None of that stopped him, and when he decided to go back it was generally an easy decision.

TMTMTMTM

Ambrose stepped off the dance floor, buzzing with adrenaline. He never drank down here, that was one point the more sensible side of him insisted on, and he knew it was smart. These people weren't to be trusted, even, and probably especially, the man he sometimes shared a bed with. If they ever found out who he was, he'd be held for ransom quicker than he could blink. And that wouldn't be pretty to explain to anyone, especially the queen.

Tylar was still on the floor, beckoning him back into the dance. He almost went, but he had a sudden change of mind of decided instead he needed some fresh air. Shaking his head, he slipped back into the crowd and out the front door.

Beggars lined the entrance to the ally to his left. Probably addicts. He felt some mixture of pity and disgust for them and he closed his eyes, face turned up toward where he knew the stars should be. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be anywhere near here. He should be back in the palace, sleeping or inventing. He knew, though, from his memories that though he might have been a little closer than he was now, he had been no perfect gentlemen before either. Glitch had always been a part of him, now…

There was gunfire down the street. Maybe it was time to go back inside. He slid back through the door, weaving his way through the crowd. There was no way through them sometimes but to move them and as he shifted through his left hand fell on a shoulder that felt remarkably- "Cain?" He said it a little louder than he had intended, voice incredulous, eyes wide open.

Cain started, pulled his arm away. His eyes darted to meet his own for only an instant.

"What are you doing here?"

"Might could ask you the same thing."

"I- What are you doing here?"

Cain looked up, and he almost gasped at the intensity of his gaze. "I followed you."

Ambrose felt his mouth go dry. "How long have you-"

"It doesn't matter."

His mind was racing, thoughts semi scattered. He could tell. He knew about Tylar, knew about his preference for men…. The panic must of shown in his eyes, then, because Cain shook his head.

"No, don't worry. I haven't told anyone and I didn't intend to. But someone needs to keep an eye on you down here, this is a dangerous place."

Of course. That was all he was doing. His job. "I…yes, well…you don't have to watch me, Cain, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm not the misplaced headcase anymore, I know what I'm doing."

There seemed to be a flicker of what could have been pain on the Tin Man's face then but it was gone as quick as he thought he saw it and he couldn't have been sure. "Of course. All the same, because of who you are you have to be careful. I'm just making sure you're safe."

"Hm."

He almost turned and left then, unsure what else to say, but Cain's voice stopped him. "Why do you come here? DG has music I'm sure-"

How could he ever explain? It was the atmosphere, the electricity. It was the dancing with other dancers. It was an experience, one he couldn't get from a cd player set up in his lab. Instead, a whim took him, one of Glitch's thoughts, perhaps, and he started dancing. Everyone around was doing the same and he moved between two nearby women effortlessly before splitting away, alone again on the floor before Cain.

When he looked up, ready to take in Cain's disinterested response, his breath caught in his chest. He was fascinated, almost hungry, eyes focused on every move Ambrose made. The exact look he had wanted at the ball but had been certain he'd never get. Moving forward, he beckoned Cain to him.

He shook his head, vigorously. "No, I can't, I can't dance, not like that I-"

"Don't be silly, no one knows when they start."

Heart pounding, he took the larger, calloused hand before and pulled Cain against him. "Now…bend your knees. Good. Now just roll your hips. No, don't look down, keep your eyes on me." Ambrose hardly dared breathe, afraid he would do something to break the spell that had Cain flush up against him, hips moving rather inexpertly but moving nonetheless. Their eyes were locked, Cain's unsure. For his part, he fought to keep the joy out of his. "See? Not that hard. Now go the other way." His hands fell to Cain's hips, guiding him, the curve of the ass he had admired from every angle feeling good enough in his hands to be almost trippy. Dazedly he found Cain's hands, guided them to his own hips, wrapped his arms around the Tin Man's neck. "Good." It was a murmur this time, the teacher in him still barely working through the elation that was screaming at him to just shut up and enjoy the feeling. They were actually moving together. The blue he was gazing into actually belonged to the right man for once and nothing he had ever imagined felt as good as the reality of being this close. It was over far too soon, the song trailing off. He pulled back quickly, afraid of the consequences of lingering. Their eyes held a moment, a heartbeat, but Cain muttered something he couldn't hear then and disappeared into the crowd.

If he hadn't have known he was thinking clearly, Ambrose would have insisted it was all a dream.

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Poor Ambrose, though I almost feel more sorry for poor confused Cain. lol anyway, it's a beautiful day and my dogs are telling me how much more important they are than this computer…so I must stop the writing for awhile. Hope you guys enjoyed!


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